Two Worlds
by Reiya Wakayama
Summary: AU, pre-slash/slash, A/M, a series of encounters between Arthur and Merlin throughout the year at major points of the seasons.
1. Dappled Sunlight

**Title:** Dappled Sunlight

**Disclaimer:** Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.

**Summary:** AU, pre-slash/slash, A/M, Part 1 of the Two Worlds Series. Ostara has arrived and the traditional hunt for the King Stag is under way.

**Warnings:** violence, language

**Pairings:** ArthurxMerlin

**Author's Note:** This idea came about after watching James Cameron's Avatar twice in one week…yeah, I really liked the movie, and I even have the soundtrack which rocks by the way. It's not based off the plot of Avatar, but it made me want to see civilization meeting the wild side of life Merlin style. So here's my version. Enjoy.

xXx

Sunlight flashed momentarily as they glided through the trees, revealing hidden pockets of dew it had yet to evaporate. Wind whistled through the leaves of the trees, herding clouds across the sky, scattering shadows throughout the forest. Birds sang all around, relishing in the soft spring morning as new life grew all around them.

A twig snapped under one of their heavy boots and was soon lost in the shrouding silence of the trees. One looked back, shooting a glare in the noise maker's direction, message clear. Silence was needed if they were to succeed today.

It was Ostara, a day of celebration for the return of the sun and life to the frozen world. Already the women were out in the glades and meadows, collecting wildflowers and early berries and fruit.

On the other hand, they, a selected group of men, had been chosen to lead the Spring Hunt. Every spring, a group was chosen to hunt for Him, the king stag, the king of the forest. And though none had ever felled the great creature, tradition dictated they still hunt it.

Prince Arthur of Camelot held up a hand, stilling those behind him as he listened to the sounds ahead of them. He could hear running water, the liquid warbling softly as it flowed through the trees.

Gesturing with his hands, he communicated silently, nods of understanding all around. They had picked up on the King Stag's trail a few miles back, following it on foot deep into the forest where none but a few of the more daring hunters ventured.

Creeping forward, he slid silently behind a tree and leaned around, peering through the foliage surrounding the tree's trunk. A small creek flowed through the clearing. Water had collected in a dip in the ground, pooling into a larger body of water before it streamed away on the other side of the glade.

And there, standing proudly, nobly, stood the King Stag, fur a rippling rusted red, antlers branching so many times, it took him a few seconds to count them all. They alone would have weighed greatly, and yet the muscles rippling under the fur as he bent to drink showed he bore it easily.

Easing sideways, he drew his bow off of his back. He had practiced for months with the long bow, perfecting his technique and skills until he could shoot blindfolded with it and not miss. He had had to, for only was the long bow allowed in the hunt. No other weapon could be used to fell such a noble creature except one created from the earth itself.

Pulling a goose fletched arrow from his quiver, he set it and aimed, drawing back strong and steadily, aim true. The Stag's head jerked up from the water, startled as something moved through the bush nearby. Arthur released some of the tension on the string, waiting and watching to see what was coming.

At first, he saw nothing but shadow in the underbrush. Then a flash of white as sunlight hit whatever it was that moved through the leaves and branches. He just stared in amazement as slowly, and silently as cat, another person eased out of the brush, eyes solely on the Stag.

Pale as the winter sun, the boy, no man for he looked to be in his early twenties, crouched by the water, watching the stage with solemn eyes. Dark pigment twisted along pale flesh, creating a sort of dappled look that had let him blend so easily among the trees.

There was more rustling among the trees and then three children _fell_ out of the bush, looking up with guilty eyes at the man. Arthur looked back, but couldn't see his face with his back turned to him, but he must have shown something to forgive them for they smiled tentatively back at him.

He held up one long pale finger to his lips, shushing them to silence before pointing to the Stag. The whole time, the Stag just stood there, watching with solemn eyes as the four emerged from the trees. As the man turned back, he pawed at the earth, sending up clods of dirt.

The three jumped in surprised, but the man just smiled. Standing from his crouched position, he walked slowly and surely towards the Stag, and held out a hand in greeting. The russet beast took a step forward until he brushed the man's palm with his head, lipping at it and snorting out a gust of air as he pulled back and shook his head.

He turned back to the three children who had stood as well; beckoning them, voice lilting as he spoke in some strange language. Two were brunettes, like the man, but the third, a girl, had hair somewhere between red and blonde, the long locks braded and strung with beads and feathers. Slowly, they stepped forward, edging closer.

As they got within reaching distance, the Stag leaned down, looking them in the faces. They stared back in wide eyed wonder. The girl, the bravest of the three, reached out a shaky hand to touch his coat tentatively. The other two soon followed, petting the great beast gently.

A twig snapped to his right and he jerked around, turning to look to see who had made the noise. One of his men, Valiant, had his bow drawn, standing and aiming at the Stag. For a second time seemed to slow as he watched the bow release, its arrow flying straight and true.

He turned and watched it arch through the air towards the beast. It never made it as instead it sunk into pale flesh, embedding itself deeply. Time seemed to snap back into place, sound exploding all around them.

The children screamed out, afraid. Arthur jumped up and ran towards Valiant. "What the hell were you thinking? There are children out there." He snatched the bow from his hand as he went to fire a second shot after his failed first one.

Arthur turned to look back into the glade. The Stag was gone, running back into the trees to disappear into the shadows. The four people still stood in the glade, watching them. The children huddled behind the man, fear plain on their faces.

He turned to look at the man. His face was pinched in pain, blood seeping through his fingers where they applied pressure around the arrow shaft that was stuck fast in his shoulder. Even then, he still was on guard, a stone knife, which had appeared as if out of thin air, was clutched tightly in his shaking hand, and held up between him and Arthur and his group.

His voice rang out, harsh and sharp. The children just stared up at him, still too afraid to move. He repeated the word again, voice clipped. Slowly, they backed away, eyes on the hunters, never leaving until they had faded back into the shadows of the underbrush.

When he was sure they were gone, he seemed to relax some, though still on his guard. Watching them, he slowly backed up, feeling his way, backwards, with his feet so as not to be tripped up. As he reached the tree line, he looked straight at Arthur, eyes clear of pain momentarily. Then they flashed gold, as if struck by sunlight, except that his face was in the shadow of the trees.

The stream exploded, water flying everywhere, blinding them temporarily, and when he looked back, the man was gone, fading into the trees as easily as he had coming out unseen. Arthur stood there for a few minutes, just staring at the place where they had stood, the only evidence of their presence was the Stag's and the other's foot prints, and a few drops of blood that had landed on the ground.

He turned back to his men. "Come, the hunt is over. We have lost the Stag." The others complied, seeing the anger boiling just under their prince's expressionless face. He threw Valiant's bow back at him and walked away, ignoring them as they made the long trek, empty handed, back to Camelot.

**End.**


	2. Babbling Brook

**Title:** Babbling Brook

**Disclaimer:** Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.

**Summary:** Part 2 of the Two Worlds Series. The Beltaine fires are being lit as couples all over the kingdom jump over the embers in hopes of a bountiful year.

**Warnings:** slight slash, some voyeurism

**Pairings:** ArthurxMerlin

**Author's Note:** This idea came about after watching James Cameron's Avatar twice in one week…yeah, I really liked the movie, and I even have the soundtrack which rocks by the way. It's not based off the plot of Avatar, but it made me want to see civilization meeting the wild side of life Merlin style. So here's my version. Enjoy.

xXx

Prince Arthur of Camelot watched with an unexpressive face as the sun sank lower and lower towards the horizon, eyeing the couples steadily migrating out of the city and castle to head towards the edge of the forest.

Already the fires were being lit, bright among the shadows of the tree line. The festive atmosphere lay heavily over them, people singing songs of joy as they walked hand in hand with their chosen someone.

None noticed their golden prince among the shadows as they left. His mother and father had left ahead of everyone and even planned to jump over the fires to bring a bountiful harvest to their kingdom. Even his stepsister Morgana was down there with her chosen Sir Leon.

Sighing, he pushed off from where he leaned on one of the city's many buildings, heading towards the forest, but opposite of where the festival was taking place. The sky was clear tonight, no clouds covering the many stars, and the moon shone bright at its fullest, turning all to silver.

Stepping under the shadows of the trees, he stopped and took a breath, taking in the night smells, listening to the forest come to life around him as the night creatures woke from their day slumber.

Following a well-used trail, he threaded his way through the trees, listening all around him. His feet guided him to a brook he knew well, stopping here often on his way out to hunt or on his way back from hunting. Now, with the full moon out, it shown silver in the light, creating patterns over everything as the fluid shifted in its clay bed.

A thin animal track ran alongside it, worn through the underbrush over the years by passage of the forest creatures seeking water to quench their thirst. He followed it easily, having walked it before. Feet silent, he continued his walk, mind blank as he tried not to think about anything.

He could hear splashing water ahead and he actually looked to where he was. He'd come further then he'd intended. The forest was unknown to him here, the trees large and closer together then those near the edge. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued on, wanting to see what was ahead.

Pushing aside a low hanging branch, he peered through the leaves…and then froze. A clearing opened up before him, a large shelf of rock protruding from the land on the other side of the clearing. A waterfall fell from its top, the source of the brook he had been following.

That wasn't what held him though. It was _who_ stood in the water's cascade that had made him stop. Tall, with long limbs, skin pale and shining white in the moon light, was the man from Ostara. Except, there was no markings to mar his white skin.

He stood there silently, head tilted back as water struck and slide down his lean frame following each dip and slope of his body, flashing white in the moonlight. Arthur swallowed heavily, realizing he was staring at this ethereal man.

He went to take a step back to give him some privacy, but he hadn't realized he'd been standing on the brooks edge, clay bed slick with water and algae. His foot slid out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground with a huge thump and curse from him.

He looked up to see the man had turned around, same stone knife from before held in his hand, naked as the day he was born and as fierce as a wolf. They stared at each other, eyes unblinking as time seemed to slow.

Then he blinked, head tilting as he got a curious look on his face, as if he was confused about Arthur. He took a cautious step forward and Arthur couldn't help but notice that he was bare. He felt heat on his cheeks and looked back up. "Um…I shouldn't have…sorry to disturb you…I'll be going now." He started to pick himself, not looking him in the eye.

He was acting like some virgin boy. Like he'd never seen someone, another _male_, naked before. He'd often swam naked with his knights, changed and undressed with them as they washed when they were on patrol. So why was he blushing like some _girl_?

_"Bidan."_ He heard the man call out, even if he didn't understand what he said. He stopped though, looking back. He was closer now, his long legs carrying him fast over to where Arthur stood in the trees. His steps were silent as he approached, gait smooth and graceful like a cat's.

_"Hwy geþeon ðu æthleapan?"_ He said, voice lilting as he tilted his head in confusion again. It was then Arthur noticed his ears, which were kind of large, and stuck out slightly. His skin was still wet, ebony locks wet and cut short and uneven, stuck out at odd angles or clung to his skin, giving him a wild look.

"I…I don't understand you." Arthur replied.

The man's face turned serious for a moment, and then he nodded. Clearing his throat, he frowned momentarily, as if concentrating very hard. "You not speak…old religion?" He asked in heavily accented English, voice slow and pronouncing each word with care as he fought to voice them.

Arthur shook his head. "No. You speak English?" He asked, surprised at this.

He nodded. "Little. Learned from priest." He said. Smiling as he spoke the sentence. He shifted and a shaft of moonlight struck him, making his pale skin shine. Arthur could make out the outline of where the arrow had struck on Ostara.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He pointed at his shoulder, where the scar was still a little red. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"Not…mad. It fault not yours." He frowned over the sentence, as if realizing he'd said something wrong. Arthur couldn't help but laugh at his expression, throwing his head back to let loose the mirth bubbling in his chest.

The man glared at him as he finished an occasional chuckle escaping. "Why laugh?" He asked petulantly, arms crossed over his thin chest.

"I wasn't laughing at you." He reassured him. He held out a hand. "My name is Arthur."

The man took it, clasping his arm in a strong grip. "Merlin." He grinned goofily at him. He stopped smiling, but didn't take his arm back. "Why run?" He asked, looking him in the eye, which Arthur just now noticing that he stood at his own height, if a little taller.

He felt his cheeks heat up again, the easy atmosphere dissipating as he took in the Merlin's nude state. "I…um…" He swallowed. "I didn't want you to think I was…well spying on you or anything." He said sheepishly, scratching at his head with his hand not held in Merlin's grasp.

"Why think that?" He asked, even more confused.

"Um…well…" He swallowed. "Because you were bathing and um…" He stopped.

Merlin just watched him, taking in his flustered state and the blush riding high on his cheeks. "I not care. Others see me bathe." He grinned, as if that fixed everything and to him, it was. He was a creature of nature, uncaring of modesty or privacy, free in his urges and instincts, ungoverned by rules of civilization.

Arthur took a breath and shrugged his embarrassment off. If Merlin didn't care if he saw him naked, then he wouldn't. He smiled back at him, showing that he understood what he meant.

Merlin glanced up, eyes shining silver in the moonlight. He sighed, looking back down at Arthur. "Must go. Needed."

Arthur felt his shoulders sag as he too realized that if he didn't get back soon, he would be missed. He'd been hoping to talk with Merlin longer. "I understand. I won't keep you. I need to be getting back as well." He let go of Merlin's arm and took a step back, putting some space between them. "Maybe we'll meet again." Merlin nodded and seeing his chance, made to beat a hasty retreat.

"Arthur." Merlin called, stilling his flight from the man's presence. He turned back and froze as he realized that Merlin was just behind him, crowding into his personal space. Warm lips brushed softly against his one, twice and then his voice. "Beltaine luck." He whispered and then was gone, fading into the shadows of the forest.

Arthur stared after him, paralyzed by surprised as he felt his cheeks heat even more as he realized what exactly had just happened. Pulling himself together with some difficulty, he turned back around and made his way back to Camelot. The whole way there, a small smile graced his lips as he remembered what had happened.

* * *

**Meanings**

_Bidan_ - wait

_Hwy geþeon ðu æthleapan?_ - Why did you run away?

**End.**


	3. Midsummer Dew

**Title:** Midsummer Dew

**Disclaimer:** Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.

**Summary:** AU, pre-slash/slash, A/M, Part 3 of the Two Worlds Series. On Litha, the elves and fairies come out to play as magic flourishes.

**Warnings:** light slash, a little sub-angst (that even a word?)

**Pairings:** ArthurxMerlin

**Author's Note:** This idea came about after watching James Cameron's Avatar twice in one week…yeah, I really liked the movie, and I even have the soundtrack which rocks by the way. It's not based off the plot of Avatar, but it made me want to see civilization meeting the wild side of life Merlin style. So here's my version. Enjoy.

xXx

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently, but silently, hoping this meeting would end soon. Yes it was important that he attend since he would be king in the future, but it was Litha and he wanted to get out of here and head to the forest.

Arthur had decided that he must be fated to only meet Merlin on the major holidays. He'd looked for him every chance he could. When he went hunting, on patrol, but the man had disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

After so many futile searches, he'd decided to put his spare time to better use. A few inquiring questions to both Gaius and Geoffrey, the two most scholarly people in Camelot, had rewarded him with not only books, but guides. Although still rusty, he was learning to speak the language of the old religion.

He'd also learned about who Merlin might be. The books had spoken of the Druids. A wild race of humans who lived off the land and in the forests of not only Camelot, but many other forests throughout Albion. They were said to be a magically gifted race, hence their attachment to nature.

So in-between studying, training, council meetings, patrols and all other princely duties besides eating and sleeping, he spent his time planning. If he was fated to meet Merlin tonight, then he planned to have more time to talk with him, even if it killed him.

He gave a mental sigh of relief as the meeting wound down and those attending started to depart to prepare for tonight's festivities. A trope of performers had arrived only days before to entertain the masses of Camelot and the castles stores had been opened to feed the masses on this great holiday. With the mead and wine flowing freely, none would soon be sober enough to miss him for a while.

Bidding his mother and father good evening, he left the room and headed for his rooms where his plans were waiting for him to be collected. Shutting the doors behind him, he walked over to his bed and sat, waiting half an hour for any last minute stragglers to exit the castle.

Oh, there were servants still in the castle, there were shifts tonight to give all a chance to celebrate, but he didn't want to meet one of his knights or his family carrying what he was going to carry. They would ask questions he might not want to answer.

Seeing that it was suitably dark for his plans, he hefted the small, but weighted basket, flung his cloak about himself, and set off, feet quiet as he left the castle, and by shadow, the city. He soon reached his destination, the tree's shadows flowing over him with a welcome coolness.

Now to see if his theory was correct. He had a spot picked out already and he started walking in that direction. A small meadow in the forest, it would be open to the sky. A stream wound through it on its eastern side, and if he was correct, then either Merlin would already be there, or the druid would find him…or he could be wrong and never find the man at all tonight.

Walking steadily, he made good time and was soon walking into the meadow. It was bathed in moonlight, the moon just past full, and though it was breathtaking, there was no one there.

Sighing dejectedly a little, he set the basket down and spread his cloak out somewhere in the middle of the grassy, flower strewn meadow. Setting the basket to the side, he lay back, looking up the stars that were appearing one by one, soaking up the heat of the day that still clung to the ground. It was the middle of summer and the breeze smelled of ripening hay and was warm to the touch.

He didn't know how long he lay there, but he must have dozed off, because he jerked awake as a twig snapped nearby. He jumped into a seated position, looking around, and hand on the hilt of his sword he took with him everywhere.

He was met with smiling blue eyes set in a pale face that was coming closer. Merlin was dressed in nothing but loose breeches that hung low on his hips, his feet bare. He seemed to glow in the moonlight and Arthur couldn't take his eyes away. He was right. He was fated to meet Merlin on these days for some reason.

He didn't care though as the brunette came to a stop in front of him, looking down on the seated prince. "Arthur." He greeted, grinning down at him.

"Merlin. _God æfen_." He replied smoothly back, smirking at the surprised look that flashed over Merlin's face.

"But you…" He said, sitting down on the other side of the cloak.

"I've been studying up." He admitted. "There are many books in our library that teach the language of the old religion." He said smiling. "So did I say it right?" He questioned.

"Ah, yes…fine."

"Would you like something to eat; I brought some food with me?" He asked, gesturing towards the basket on his right.

"Ah…yes." Arthur nodded and pulled the basket closer. Opening it, he started to pull things out. "You seem to be knowing I come here.I not know you out here." He said, watching the prince move.

Arthur's hands stopped for a second before he continued where he had left off. "I had a theory." He said aloud, turning back with some bread, cheese, and cold ham on a small plate in his hands.

"Theory?" He asked, taking the platter from him.

"Yes, a theory. I've come to the conclusion that I'm fated to meet you out here on the major holidays." He looked up to take in Merlin's expression. He looked confused. "Ostara, Beltaine, and Litha today, seems to prove my point. Each time, I somehow run into you out here." He set his own plate down and took a bit of the cold ham.

"I see." He took a bite of his own ham, face thoughtful as he thought over this. "Maybe we are fated. _Fæge._"

The word seemed to ring through the warm air, sending a shiver down his spine. It sounded like destiny, ringing true in his hearing and his soul. Shrugging the feeling off, he took another bite of food.

For a while the conversation remained light, Merlin's speech seeming much improved from the last time they had met, though it still was patchy in places. Sometimes Arthur would offer a word to fill the gap in his sentence and Merlin would smile at him, eyes crinkling.

And as Arthur taught him better English, Merlin taught him more of the language of the old religion, pointing to things and saying their names, giving sentences for Arthur to decipher. The night drew on like this until the moon was at its zenith, shining from above and turning all to silver.

Merlin looked up and stopped speaking. "What‒" Merlin shushed him and he fell silent waiting for him to speak.

"Look." His voice seemed to float out of nowhere, a whisper on the wind. Arthur followed his gaze. He felt his eyes go round as he looked up. Lights danced above them, shining all shades of color.

"What are they?" His voice was soft, not wanting to frighten them away.

"_Ylfe_. Fey folk, elves, sidhe, they have many names. They come tonight because magic is strong now. Just tonight." Merlin scooted back a little, coming to sit next to him. "Watch." His hand reached up and rested easily on the nape of Arthur's neck. He turned slightly and saw his eyes flash golden in the dark.

The hand turned him back to the front as he felt magic tingle through his body. The lights started to slow down in their erratic movements and then he could make them out. Strange looking creatures with long, tapered ears, colored skin and sharp looking teeth, they looked like they would be nasty to cross.

They sat there in silence, watching the fey dance through the air. Only once did one divert from the dance. It came in low and stopped just before Merlin. It seemed to give a stiff formal bow and Merlin lowered his head in return before it sped away to join its brethren.

Arthur turned to look at the strange warlock he was seated next to. His eyes were aglow, though not with magic. A small smile curving his lips as he watched the creatures fly around them, the light they gave off casting his sharp cheekbones in shadow and light alternately.

He couldn't look away, taking in the image of his face. Merlin, as if sensing his gaze, turned to look back at him. Arthur watched a light flush of embarrassment washed over his high cheeks, looking self-conscious.

He was about to say something to the warlock when the man pushed him down onto his back. Something flew by overhead, large and very fast. "They like to joke." He muttered, glaring at the creature that disappeared into the forest shadows. "You okay?" He asked looking down from where he lay half sprawled on top of Arthur.

"Yeah, I'm good." He watched another blush ride up his cheeks as Merlin seemed to realize the position they were in. He went to pull away, but Arthur's hand on his arm stopped him, making him look down in question.

Arthur didn't think about it as he leaned up, bringing himself into Merlin's breathing space, faces inches apart. When Merlin didn't pull away, he pressed his luck, closing the distance between them to press his lips chastely to Merlin's.

He pulled back and watched him, waiting for his reaction. When Merlin just let out a sigh and leaned back down, he couldn't help the mental cheer that went up in his mind. It was soon cut off as the kiss deepened, Merlin forcing him to lie flat as pressed into it.

Arthur wasn't complaining though, running his hands up his arms to run his fingers through sable locks, Merlin own fingers way ahead of him as they threaded through Arthur's own hair in a desperate attempt to pull him closer.

Some minutes went by before they parted, seeking air and space to look at each other. For a moment there was so much to say between them and no words to put to it. So they opted for action instead, coming together again, mouths moving over each other with clicking teeth and seeking tongues.

Eventually though, they had to stop. Arthur's mouth was red and swollen and a little sore, and Merlin was most likely the same. Merlin himself was lying next to him, head on his shoulder as they stared up at the stars.

"It'll be dawn soon." Arthur said, finally breaking the silence that hung between them.

Merlin sat up, looking down at him. "I know." He looked torn, between wanting to stay and having to go.

"Since I know I won't find you later, will you meet me here on Lughnassadh?" He asked, lifting a hand up to trace along those sharp cheekbones.

"I…yes." He finally said after a few seconds hesitation. Arthur smiled up at him and Merlin reciprocated it, even if it was a little bittersweet. He leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. They tingled slightly and the soreness of them eased. His eyes started to grow heavy, threatening to close any minute. Merlin leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I will come on Lughnassadh." He said softly, just before sleep dragged Arthur under.

The blonde woke the next morning wrapped in his cloak, sunlight just starting to stream into the meadow. He was alone and if he felt a little ache in his chest at Merlin's absence, he ignored it.

Getting up, he picked up the packed basket, it hadn't been that way last night, and trudged his way back to Camelot. They would be looking for him and he didn't want to have to explain his absence in too much detail. His lips still tingled slightly, the only reminder of what had happened last night.

* * *

Godæfen- good evening.

Fæge- fated.

Ylfe- elves.

**End.**


	4. Golden Harvest

**Title:** Golden Harvest

**Disclaimer:** Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.

**Summary:** AU, pre-slash/slash, A/M, Part 4 of the Two Worlds Series. Lughnassadh, a day of many marriages and celebrations for the harvest to come.

**Warnings:** none

**Pairings:** ArthurxMerlin

**Author's Note:** This idea came about after watching James Cameron's Avatar twice in one week…yeah, I really liked the movie, and I even have the soundtrack which rocks by the way. It's not based off the plot of Avatar, but it made me want to see civilization meeting the wild side of life Merlin style. So here's my version. Enjoy.

xXx

Arthur stared out across city through his window. In the distance, rippling fields of hay, rye, barley and all other grains grew, waiting to be harvested in a number of weeks. Much of the produce had been harvested already and was even now being preserved for winter.

Everywhere, peasants and nobles alike had gathered the livestock that was to be slaughtered soon after the harvest. Many would gain a large amount of weight over the time as they were feed a rich diet in an attempt to plump them up for a better meat this winter.

That was the time he hated most. He could always hear the screams of the animals as they were killed, their red blood staining the earth. Those few days of killing meant he got little to no sleep at night as the sounds went round and round his head.

But that was still some time off. First the harvest had to be brought in and before that, Lughnassadh would be celebrated. Although it was mostly a peasant's holiday, celebrating the harvest to come and ask that the gods keep the harvest good until it could be brought in.

It was also a day of many weddings. Many believed it brought good luck to the marriage if the wedding happened on the day as Lugh's marriage to mother earth.* His parents had married on this day, so many years ago. Of course it had been a lot bigger than a normal peasant's wedding, but it was the meaning that counted.

He cared little for marriage at the moment. He was looking forward to tonight when he would sneak out to seek out Merlin. It had been on his mind the last couple of days. He wanted the sun to reach the horizon soon, but it seemed to hang in the sky, not moving and mocking him as he grew even more impatient.

Eventually though, it grew late, the sun's edge sliding slowly beneath the horizon, sending the world into darkness as it went to rest. Arthur, seeing his chance, left his room and made his way down from his room into the bottom of the castle and out into the city.

If his parents learned he was in the city, then they would only assume he was watching the celebrations and allowing his subjects to spoil him with bits and pieces of the harvest so far. He certainly wouldn't dissuade that notion.

The shadows continued to lengthen as the sun went further down, coloring the sky in fire and tenting the trees in red and gold as he neared them. Although a trick of the light, he knew that soon the leaves would start turning, making the land burn with their colors.

Following the track he knew by heart by now, he made his way to the meadow from before. The grass was higher, the flowers even more wide spread. Bees hummed all around as they flew from flower to flower, heavy with golden pollen as they rushed to make their honey before winter arrived.

All was quiet and peaceful as he stood there, just taking in the scene but not walking into the meadow so as not to disturb it. He was so absorbed in it that he didn't hear the sound of a twig snapping behind him or the footsteps drawing nearer.

He did notice when a hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump and spin around. Merlin stood there, grinning at him in the fading light, unabashed at making him start. "Arthur, you should pay attention more." He admonished the prince.

"I was distracted is all. If I hadn't been, I would have heard you coming." He said with a mock glare, trying to keep his lips from twitching into a smile.

He did smile though when Merlin leaned forward to press their lips together, briefly. "You must come." He said, tugging at his hand.

"Come where?" Arthur asked, a little concerned, but let Merlin pull him along through the trees.

"She wants to meet you." He said simply.

"Who?" Arthur asked, exasperated at Merlin's evasion of his question.

"_Modor._ Mother." He said, looking back at the blonde to answer. Arthur gulped slightly before grabbing his hand and walking next to him instead of being pulled.

* * *

What Arthur had expected when Merlin brought him here, he couldn't have said, but what he saw was certainly not something he had been expecting. There was a whole _village_ here, hidden in the trees, as in _up_ in the trees, and he wouldn't even have noticed it unless Merlin had showed him.

Merlin led him to one specific tree, an old oak tree that towered above all the others. Notches had been carved into the bark, hand and foot holds to help someone climb up. Merlin pointed and he realized he would have to go up first.

Squaring his shoulders, he grabbed a notched and heaved himself up, working slowly and effectively to pull himself up the large tree. He wasn't even surprised to see Merlin already up there ahead of him, waiting for him to get up.

Pulling himself up the last few feet, he looked around. He was on some sort of platform woven between the branches from other branches, vines and stones. It didn't look sturdy, but as he stood there, it felt like he was on solid ground. He assumed that was due to magic.

The house itself, for it was a house with a roof and a door and windows, was woven from branches and animal skins, light shining through a few gaps in the materials as well as the windows.

The door opened and he had to blink as the light momentarily blinded him. There stood a woman, short and just as pale as Merlin. Her hair more a brown then black, she had shining brown eyes they shown as she smiled at him, gesturing for him to come in.

Merlin stepped up beside him. "_Modor, ðes sie _Arthur." He said easily.

"Arthur." She said the name slowly, sounding the syllables out, her accent thick. She smiled at the word. "_Ever betlic nemnan._ _Wilcuma,_ Arthur." She said to him.

"_Þancian eow._" He said back. She looked surprised, but didn't say anything as she ushered them into the rest of the house where a table was set with food already, still steaming. Merlin sent a grin at him as both of their stomach gurgled at the smell of the food. It smelt good.

* * *

It was much later, when the two left, Merlin guiding him through the trees to the meadow. The night had been long, with much feasting and merry making. Soon after they had finished eating with his mother, Merlin had tugged him out of the house, giving him little time to say good bye to the woman before the door cut them off.

People were out, lanterns strung across the gaps between the trees, candles burning in hidden notches in the bark. Music was being played, at the moment, only a lonely flute, but others soon joining in.

No one took notice of the stranger in their midst as the danced and jumped, shouting out loudly. The men were dressed similar to Merlin, rough spun breeches their only garment. The women, a little more covered, wore a sort of wrap around their torsos, the cloth colorful.

Merlin guided him through the crowds of people. They came to a more subdued group, two in the center. "What is this?" He asked quietly as they stood to the side.

"Brydlac, a marriage ceremony between two friends. Will," he pointed to the brown haired male. "Freya." The woman, dressed in a white wrap, he black locks woven with garlands of flowers.

They stood and watched till the ceremony was completed and clapped with the rest of them. They only ate and drank water and some fruit, still full from their earlier meal. The night grew onwards towards dawn, though few seemed to notice or care, too caught up in their revelry.

Now as they came upon the meadow from before, Arthur felt the awe settle in. He knew for a fact that few ever got to see something like that, and the fact that Merlin trusted him enough to show him, spoke volumes.

"Thank you." Arthur turned towards the warlock. The paler man was watching him. "Will I see you on Mabon?"

"Yes. I will see you here again. Many times." The last part sounded cryptic, but he ignored the feeling, instead smiling and placing a chaste kiss on his lips before leaving. If he had turned to look back, he would have seen the grim look on the wild man's face, but he didn't and left in blissful ignorance of what his actions might entitle.

* * *

Modor- mother

Modor, ðes sieArthur.- Mother, this is Arthur.

Ever betlic nemnan.- A fine name.

Wilcuma, Arthur.- Welcome, Arthur.

Þancian eow.- Thank you.

Brydlac- marriage ceremony

**End.**


End file.
